


(there's no place like) home for the holidays

by bevioletskies



Series: twenty questions [7]
Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 16:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17124854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bevioletskies/pseuds/bevioletskies
Summary: After the chaos of trying to fit every single festive tradition into last year's holiday season, the Guardians decide to do something a little bit more low-key this Christmas - visiting Peter's hometown for the first time as a team. However, it may be more of an emotional rollercoaster than Peter, Gamora, oranyonecould have bargained for.





	(there's no place like) home for the holidays

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven’t read the main fic, all you need to know is: the Guardians attend a superhero school on Earth, and therefore are approximately ten years younger than their movie counterparts. Peter and Gamora are in an established relationship after being in a fake one for a few months, and Mantis and Nebula have been together for a little while, too.
> 
> Fic title is from the song [(There's No Place Like) Home For The Holidays](https://open.spotify.com/track/2GapxG7BxK55ihQRAlR39e?si=hVO3MaHYSxukE3WxTuPw4A) by Perry Como.

“C’mon, guys, how hard is it to pack? We spend, like, eighty percent of our time on this ship, all our stuff should already _be_ here!” Peter’s voice echoed down the corridor of the Milano, but no response seemed to follow. He paused. “Uh, hello?”

Mantis was first to pop her head out of her room, leaning out of the doorway in a rather comical fashion. “Should I bring a hat? How cold is it in Missouri?”

“Cold enough. Bring a hat,” Peter instructed. She smiled in silent gratitude and promptly went back into her room. He grinned to himself, feeling giddy and nervous and excitable all the same, then turned back to his own duffel bag sat by his feet on the communal living room floor, zipped up and ready to go.

It was a trip he’d been talking about for months on end, something he and Gamora had kept in mind ever since they visited Peter’s hometown a little over a year ago, soon after they had started dating. Since then, there had been all sorts of obstacles in the way - school, for the most part, since Gamora wasn’t about to let everyone skip classes, especially now that Yondu was _actually_ putting in some effort - that prevented them from doing so, and honestly, Peter had been apprehensive about what it would mean to the others. It meant a lot to _him_ , of course, to bring his new family to the place where he’d grown up with his old one, but he wasn’t sure if the Guardians, all of whom had lost homes and loved ones, would feel like he was showing off somehow. The team had been incredibly solid over the last year, sharing a sense of ease and camaraderie he didn’t think would ever be possible with such mismatched personalities and temperaments, and he didn’t want to risk that.

Still, it was Mantis who eventually convinced him it would be a good idea, saying she would be honored to see the place he’d grown up, the place he’d shared with his mother. “Just because _we_ do not have homes to go back to, does not mean that we can’t go with you to yours,” she had said. “I would very much like to go, Peter.”

And now, they were on break for the holidays, New York was just as crisp as ever, and like last year, most of the school’s campus was a ghost town, now that practically the entire student body had returned home for the two weeks they were given before coming back to the grind of heroism and college-level academia. The Guardians, meanwhile, were due to take off from the hangar bay in about thirty minutes, and, in their typical Guardian-like fashion, were woefully behind on packing.

“Quill.”

Peter nearly jumped three feet in the air at the sound of an ever-so-monotonous voice behind him, whipping around to look at the culprit. “Dammit, Nebula, you scared me.”

“Good,” she snarked, folding her arms across her chest. “Why aren’t we doing a system check yet?”

“Pretty much everyone else is still packing, I’m not gonna lock up the ship if they still have stuff back in their dorms,” Peter replied, hastily folding his arms as well. “Why don’t you make yourself useful, go help your girlfriend instead of spookin’ me?”

“So now she’s my girlfriend and not your sister?” Nebula snorted. “And I _despise_ that word. It makes us sound like children.”

“Well, my _sister_ loves that word,” Peter teased. “And so does _your_ sister, or should I say, _my_ girlfriend.”

Nebula stalked past him towards Mantis’s room with an impressive eye roll on her way out. “You’re terrible, Quill.”

“Good talk,” he called after her, unabashedly pleased with himself, though he had a feeling he was going to pay for it later.

Peter then made his way up the ladder despite knowing the others weren’t ready yet, grinning when he emerged in the cockpit and saw a certain somebody who was already well-prepared and sitting in her seat, tapping her foot impatiently. She turned at the sound of his footsteps. “Peter?”

“I’d just like to say, for the record, that I’m not the one who’s behind,” he said defensively, dropping a brief kiss on Gamora’s cheek before sitting opposite her.

“I think I’d be more proud of you if it wasn’t _me_ who insisted you pack three nights ago,” she retorted, but she smiled regardless. “You’re excited, I’d imagine. It’s been too long since you’ve returned.”

“ _We’ve_ returned,” he corrected. “I still think about that weekend sometimes. Hanging out with you in the park that I spent all my summers in, sitting in my school’s parking lot...visiting my mom’s grave. Plus, y’know, we’d only been dating for a month at the time, but after we came back, I was already sure that you and me were gonna make it all the way.”

“Which is strange, since I found myself doubting it,” Gamora said softly, reaching over to rest her hand on his knee. “I don’t feel that way anymore. I _know_ that this works, that us, that our family, it all works. Not perfectly, but...in the ways that we need it to. And I’m glad we get to do this with them.”

“So am I,” Peter murmured. He placed his hand over hers and squeezed. “It seems like we’re always doing somethin’ for school or for a job. This’ll be our first _real_ vacation together.” He straightened up, half-smirking, half-wincing in anticipation. “Though if it’s like a typical family vacation, we’re probably gonna be screamin’ at each other and arguin’ over directions soon enough.”

“Don’t spoil it, Peter, I thought you were supposed to be the idealist between the two of us,” she teased. “Let _me_ think about how everything can and will go wrong.”

With almost comically precise timing, a loud crash resonated from below, causing the entire ship to tremble with the force of whatever it was that had apparently just exploded. Peter groaned, getting up to open the hatch and poke his head through. “Stop destroying my ship, we don’t got insurance!” he shouted.

* * *

The flight to Missouri was easy enough, with minimal complaints, mostly because pretty much everyone took a nap. Once they touched down at a private airfield and piled into a rental vehicle, however, it was an entirely different story.

“I am Groot,” Groot wailed.

“Your toys are in your bag and your bag is in the trunk, we’re not getting your stuffed animals for a twenty-minute car ride,” Gamora said firmly from the driver’s seat, though it only made him even crankier.

“Drax, buddy, you’re gonna have to shuffle over so you don’t squish us,” Peter said, who currently had his elbow in Nebula’s gut, and was certain he was about to _lose_ said elbow if Drax didn’t move and give the cramped backseat some breathing room.

“I hate this,” Nebula said loudly to anyone who would listen, though Mantis wasn’t even looking her way; instead, she had her face pressed up against the window, partially to look at the thick blanket of snow (as if it hadn’t been snowing profusely in New York when they left), but mostly because she was getting shoved, too.

Arriving at the hotel was similarly uncomfortable; the other patrons stared at them unashamedly as they walked into the lobby, hefting far too many bags for a week’s stay on their shoulders and still squabbling over their sore backs and bruised egos. Thankfully, Gamora had remembered to call ahead, and they were swiftly checked into their respective rooms before anything else could happen.

“Remember, Peter and I are in this room, so if you need anything - ”

“Knock first,” Rocket muttered under his breath, causing Yondu to chortle heartily. Groot laughed, too, even though he didn’t understand the joke. They were all rewarded with Gamora’s death glare.

“Are you looking to go straight back home, Rocket?” she said testily. “Believe me, I can make it happen.”

“No, ma’am,” Rocket drawled, smirking.

Gamora huffed. “As I was saying, Peter and I are in this room, you and Groot have that one, Yondu and Drax are in that one down there - ”

“I didn’t agree to this,” Yondu interrupted, holding up his hand like they were back in class.

“ - and Nebula and Mantis are over there,” Gamora finished, folding her arms across her chest. “Everyone go unpack and rest, and come meet us in our room for dinner at seven.”

Once she and Peter went into their room and set their bags aside to be unpacked in a moment, he collapsed onto the bed with a heavy sigh. “Starting to wonder if I should’ve come back here with just you instead.”

Gamora turned to look at him from where she was knelt by her own bag. “You don’t mean that,” she said quietly.

“I dunno, it just seems like vacations are more stress than they’re worth. I don’t wanna come outta this hating everyone,” he grumbled, staring listlessly at the ceiling.

“We just got here, Peter. I know you were scared last time. I really do,” she said, sitting beside him. “You were afraid of confronting your past. I don’t think anyone _wants_ to open old wounds, but you still handled it really well. What is it this time?”

He turned onto his side so he could properly look at her, reaching over to rest his hand on her knee. “Can’t hide nothin’ from you, can I?” he chuckled. “It’s just that...we’re getting closer to graduating, and I really like what we’re doing right now. Going to school during the week, saving the galaxy on weekends. It’s the kind of stuff I dreamed about as a kid. Well, not the school part. The ‘being a hero’ part, where we get to travel through space and have cool adventures and do all sorts of stuff that I didn’t think would ever exist outside of my own over-imaginative brain.”

“You’re worried it’s all going to go away,” Gamora guessed. He nodded silently. “Well...I can’t tell you there’s no chance it won’t. But I _can_ tell you that we’ll do everything in our power to make sure it doesn’t. _All_ of us.”

“It feels like we’re one bad day away from falling apart sometimes.” Peter inched slightly closer, moving to rest his head in her lap. She automatically began threading her fingers through his hair in reassurance. “And I don’t think that’s ever gonna stop.”

“We’re combative, stubborn people. I’ll admit that I’m probably the most stubborn of us all,” she said with a rueful smile. “I hope that stubbornness means we fight to stay together, not that we’ll drive each other apart. I want to graduate knowing we’ve made a difference, and that we’re going to continue making a difference.”

“I want that, too,” he said, finally looking up to meet her eyes. “I got ideas, y’know. For the team, and, well...for us.”

“Us?” Gamora repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

He laughed, the tension in his jaw finally releasing. “We can talk about it another time. Right now...I wouldn’t mind a nap before dinner.”

To his disappointment, Gamora gently moved his head aside so she could stand up, gesturing towards their abundance of luggage sitting by the closet doors. “Not yet, Peter. First, we have to unpack.”

He groaned, sluggishly dragging himself upright. “And we were having such a nice moment, too.”

* * *

Everyone seemed mellowed out and well-rested by morning - unsurprising since the hotel beds were far nicer than the Milano’s mattresses - though Peter had a feeling that was going to change. After some subpar food, courtesy of the hotel’s complimentary breakfast, they all bundled up and got back into their rental, ready to start their day.

When the car pulled up to the curbside along the park, Nebula peered through the window in apprehension. “It looks...busy.”

“Course it is, practically no one’s at school or work this time of year,” Peter said dismissively. “C’mon, let’s go!”

As expected, Peter, Groot, and Mantis were the most enthused at the sight before them, a fairly typical public park now covered in a generous sheet of blindingly white snow, its playground and benches completely rendered inaccessible by the weather. It seemed mostly populated by families and the elderly, with the occasional jogger passing through that made even Drax shiver.

Unlike the last time she’d been here, Gamora was more on her guard than ever; there were far more people this time around, and despite trusting her sister, she still couldn’t stop herself from eyeing the small pocket knife on Nebula’s utility belt, concealed in its own pocket bag. Heads were already beginning to turn in their direction, just like the hotel lobby, and most of the returning expressions were far from friendly.

“Tell us about this place, Peter,” Mantis prompted, and he began the spiel he’d told Gamora last year, telling anecdotes of his childhood upbringing, how he’d played on all the equipment with other children and came away with scrapes and bruises, spent hours at the waterpark or just sitting under a tree with his mom, simultaneously listening to music and reading a good book. The others seemed captivated by his usual animated storytelling, all but one.

“I was worried before, too,” Gamora said quietly, interlocking arms with her sister. “Not everyone we see in public is our enemy. They’re just curious.”

It was a testament to Nebula’s nerves that she didn’t immediately have a snappish response. “Do they know who we are?” she murmured, itching to reach for her blade. “Do they fear us?”

“If it helps, just pretend they’re looking at Rocket,” Gamora said, smiling wryly. “Remember what we were taught?”

“To assume the worst,” Nebula said flatly.

Gamora shook her head. “No, Nebula, not what we were taught by Thanos. What we learned in school. The first strategy of engagement is defense, not offense.” Still, there was one particular older couple that seemed to be looking them up and down derisively in a way that even made Gamora twitch.

They progressed further into the park, which was far more extensive than everyone but Peter and Gamora had expected. When they heard the faint sounds of horns and strings in the distance, Rocket was the first to groan. “Aw, man, it’s like you planned this!”

Peter perked up instantly. “We _definitely_ gotta check that out!”

And so, they were all dragged in the direction of the music, coming across a small glass observatory covered in overgrown plants, its doors thrown wide open despite the chill, with a small gathering of musicians right in its center. People were standing close by, either observing, or to Peter’s delight, dancing about in an unabashedly joyous fashion.

“Terrans are some of the strangest people I’ve ever met,” Drax sighed, moving to clear off a nearby picnic table so he could sit down and wait for the inevitable. Yondu and Rocket also went to join him, leaving Groot with Mantis. “What does all this swaying and foot-tapping nonsense accomplish?”

“Beats me,” Rocket shrugged.

With a single pleading look, Peter managed to get Gamora to join him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. It was so commonplace for them to dance nowadays that they immediately found their hand positions on their respective shoulders and waists, smiling fondly at each other, though they knew they were going to get teased for it the moment they returned to their friends.

“I’m slightly concerned that this has become second nature for us,” Gamora said lightly. “Are you sure you didn’t set this up beforehand?”

“I really didn’t,” Peter chuckled. “What can I say? Music just follows me wherever I go.”

“Maybe those musical films you showed me weren’t so far off from your reality, after all,” she said with a teasing mirth in her voice.

“Next thing you know, I’m gonna start talking to animals, too,” he joked, turning to look over at Rocket. “Oh, wait - ”

“ _Peter_ ,” she said firmly, pinching his waist to get him to look back at her with a wince.

“Alright, sorry, bad joke - ”

Nebula, meanwhile, was sat stoutly at the table with Drax, Yondu, and Rocket, glaring up at Mantis, who was standing over her with one hand outstretched. “No. I will not give in like my sister clearly has. Gamora will have no dignity left by the time we leave this wretched town.”

“You danced with me at Wasp’s holiday party last week,” Mantis reminded her. “Well, I suppose it was more like you stood still while I rocked us back and forth, but I think that still counts.”

“That was among people we know.” Nebula turned away, almost embarrassed by her own reasoning. “We can’t trust these people.”

“But do you trust me?” Mantis then smiled. “Silly question, I know you do. But do you trust me to trust everyone else?”

Nebula hesitated once more, and then slowly got to her feet, finally accepting Mantis’s hand. “Then I’ll blame you when things go wrong.”

“ _If_ things go wrong,” Mantis said cheerily, weaving them both through the crowd to join Peter and Gamora, who looked equal parts stunned and impressed that she’d managed to get Nebula to join her. Gamora reached over to squeeze her sister’s shoulder in silent praise, only to get shaken off immediately, as expected.

“Oh, how the mighty’ve fallen,” Yondu snickered, twirling his arrow absentmindedly between his fingers. “We gotta get a picture of this, we ain’t never letting her live this down.”

“And get castrated once she catches us? No thanks,” Rocket scoffed.

“I am Groot?” Groot asked, still grumpy after being unceremoniously dumped onto the table with the others.

“It is not something someone your age should know about,” Drax said gravely.

Nebula took tiny, stiff steps in her minimal attempts to keep up with Mantis’s boisterous, unrefined movements, her hands resting lightly on Mantis’s waist. The music was beginning to pick up speed, and a singer had now joined in, the voice echoing about in Nebula’s head, consuming her attuned sense of sound, the way music sounded to her whenever Peter unapologetically cranked up the volume on the Milano. All she could focus on now was the eyes that followed them, people straining their necks around their dance partners to get a better look at their faces, like they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Some seemed confused, others worried, all clinging a little bit tighter to those they were familiar with.

“They’re staring at us,” Nebula whispered, ducking her head so her mouth was right at Mantis’s ear.

“Terrans seem so judgemental,” Mantis sighed. “When we first got together, Peter showed me all these articles about marriage equality and hate crimes - ”

“Not because we’re both girls,” Nebula interrupted. “Because we are both not of this world.”

“We have lived here for three years now, along with many others that come from all over the galaxy. It is not our responsibility to make them comfortable with their prejudices by hiding who we are, especially since we have never done them any harm,” Mantis insisted.

Nebula paused. “What do you feel?”

“They are curious,” Mantis said quietly. “Some of them are hesitant about whether to stay or go. Maybe they think it will offend us and cause more problems. But...some are happy to see us.”

Nebula tilted her head inquisitively. “Who?”

“Excuse me.” All four of them looked down to see a group of at least eight children, the oldest no older than ten, crowded around them in every direction. “Are you the Guardians?”

Gamora and Nebula exchanged worried glances; Peter, by contrast, puffed out his chest and lowered his voice by at least an octave. “Yes, we are. How can we help you?”

One of them held up an old napkin with a sheepish smile. “Could we have your autographs?”

Peter’s usual roguish grin was softened instantly into something far sweeter, an expression the others preferred greatly over his posturing. “Yeah, of course. But c’mon, let’s get out of this crowd and head over there before you get trampled, okay?” They all nodded eagerly, following him to the picnic table.

Gamora and Mantis, meanwhile, paused to turn to Nebula. She glared back. “They don’t want _me_ , you’re wasting your time. Go on.”

“You don’t know that,” Gamora said gesturing for Nebula to join them. “Please.” When it was clear neither of them were moving, Nebula stalked past them with a bitter grunt, wondering whether to reconsider the company she kept.

Once they caught up to the others, they found Peter charming the children with slightly exaggerated tales of their adventures, along with stories about the other Academy students that were crowd favorites. “What’s it like, getting to hang out with Thor every day?” one of them asked.

“He’s okay, not as good-looking as you’d think,” Peter shrugged, which caused Rocket and Yondu to snicker under their breaths once again. “Hey, the girls are here!”

The children instantly turned their way, holding out their bits of scrap paper expectantly. Mantis got right to it, while Gamora’s tight smile gradually relaxed over time as some of the little girls told her how she’d inspired them to try karate classes and sign up for their school’s sports teams. Nebula was the most taken aback when some of them reached for her as well, more apprehensive towards her than the others, but still determined to get her autograph, too.

“You know who I am,” Nebula said flatly. They nodded, hands still outstretched. Sighing laboriously, she snatched Peter’s pen right out of his hand, his protests falling on deaf ears, and began scribbling across their papers as well.

Once they were finally finished, the children chorused their thank you’s and sprinted off to rejoin their parents. Nebula sat back down again next to Drax, silently making her decision of what to do next very clear. To her surprise, Mantis didn’t protest and merely sat beside her.

Peter, of course, pulled Gamora back into the crowd, still delighted by how much she embraced it, embraced _him_ nowadays, and buried his face into her neck, partially for the warmth, but mostly for the comfort of just how well he fit there. “Man, I love it when that stuff happens. Makes it feel like we’re actually doing what we set out to do. Like you said - makin’ a difference.”

“And it strokes your ego all the same,” Gamora deadpanned, but she was smiling regardless. “I like it, too.”

_All you need is love, all you need is love...all you need is love, love, love is all you need…_

* * *

Nebula was half-asleep on her hotel bed when the door opened. Expecting it to be Gamora, she grumbled and turned face-down into her pillow. “I have no interest in talking to you, sister.”

“It is just me.” Mantis shut the door behind her, kicked off her shoes, and promptly crawled onto the bed to join Nebula, lying by her side. She was careful not to touch her. “You have become even more reclusive than usual. I thought our first day here went very well, when we were at the park with all those people, but then yesterday and today...what happened?”

“I thought a person with your abilities would understand the concept of mood swings,” Nebula grouched. “You and Gamora both seem to think something utterly catastrophic needs to happen to justify my anger.”

“I do not think we think that,” Mantis said quietly. “I think we are _hoping_ that it is only that, so there is something we can do to help. But if there is no cause...then we are helpless to watch.”

“You aren’t helpless. You read me, all the time, even when I ask you not to.” Nebula slowly turned over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. “I could ask you what I’m feeling right now, and you would know better than I do.”

“I wish I couldn’t.” Mantis sat up, looking down at Nebula with bittersweet fondness. “I told you all last year that I wanted to focus more on myself, and I have. But I will never be able to shut off my powers. I cannot lose them, like Peter did his. Sometimes, I wish very desperately that my mind was only ever mine, and that I cannot feel everything everyone else does. So that I can be happy when I guess correctly, instead of dreading the fact that I am always right.”

Nebula swallowed. “You know I’m not the one to talk to about this. I never know what you need.”

“I need to know...if maybe we should leave early,” Mantis said slowly. “If you are more uncomfortable than what it is worth. Peter can always bring me back here another time, but if you feel uneasy around all these people, we can go back together.”

“I told you, it wasn’t about the people. It’s...everything.” Nebula’s voice was so quiet, Mantis could barely hear her. “But I know this is important. Not just to your brother, but to everyone, especially you and Gamora. I can accept my own mild discomfort if it means that you’re both...happy.”

Mantis smiled sadly. “And you know it is harder for us to feel happy when you are not. So what do you want, Nebula?”

“Want is a strong word,” Nebula said, her voice almost lilting, teasing, in a way that made Mantis feel privately flattered that she’d elicited such a response out of her, such bold admittance of things that she barely ever told Gamora. “I’ll stay.”

“For me and Gamora?” Mantis laid back down, her dark eyes even wider than usual, reaching over to tangle their fingers together, her smile growing when she noticed the slight twitch in the corners of Nebula’s mouth.

“If I admit to it, will you leave me be already?” Still, Nebula moved closer, inch by inch, bringing their foreheads together. “I swear, you and my sister intend to run me into the ground with your incessant worrying. I’m not a child to be coddled.”

“No, you are not,” Mantis murmured. “You are a person we care about very much.” She brushed a gentle kiss onto Nebula’s cheek, grinning when Nebula turned her head so their lips would meet. After a moment, she broke the kiss. “Should I leave you to nap?”

“You can stay if you want,” Nebula said blithely, though the shine in her eyes told Mantis she definitely had a preference. Beaming victoriously, Mantis curled up against Nebula’s neck, letting out a sigh of content. Nebula carefully draped one arm over Mantis’s arm, resting her hand on the small of her back. It was perhaps the most intimate moment they’d shared yet, and Mantis hoped that Nebula couldn’t hear the way her heart beat rapidly in nervous excitement. “But next year...I’m staying home.”

Mantis laughed. “Home...I like the sound of that.”

* * *

The wind whistled through everyone’s hair - those who had hair, that is - as they crossed the lawn, causing them all to shiver involuntarily. Otherwise, it was the sort of stillness that was associated with Midwestern winters, where the generous blanket of snow muffled just about every other kind of sound, obscured their vision from seeing anything but what was right in front of their faces. They could barely tell if anyone else was there, too, what with the hum of silence and the lack of movement except for the swaying trees and bare-boned bushes. At most, the only thing they _could_ see, apart from each other, was the plaque at the front entrance: St. Peter Catholic Church Cemetery.

Groot snuggled further down into the faux fur collar of Yondu’s coat, grateful for its warmth; even _Drax_ , of all people, was wearing a jacket (over his bare chest, of course). Nebula, in a rare show of public affection, was braced against Mantis’s side, Rocket trailed behind everyone else with snowflakes clinging to his whiskers, and of course, Peter and Gamora led the way, hand-in-hand.

“You couldn’t have picked a better day, Quill?” Nebula snarked, though some of her bite was lost in the wind.

“It was gonna be cold no matter what,” Peter said defensively. “Come on, it’s just over here.”

He and Gamora knelt down by one particular gravestone, moving to brush out the snow that had built up in its engravings, and laid a modest bouquet of pine branches and holly berries at its base. Mantis was first to join them on the ground, mouthing the words to herself while she did:  _Meredith Elizabeth Quill - Mother, Daughter, Friend, & Dreamer - 1957 - 1988_. The others quickly followed suit.

“So...what now, boy?” Yondu asked uncertainly.

“I just kinda...talk to her. Say whatever’s on my mind,” Peter shrugged.

“Settle in, we’re gonna be here a while,” Rocket muttered out of the corner of his mouth; Gamora turned to glare him into silence.

“So, uh, Mom, it’s been over a year since I came back. Sorry, I’ve been real busy, you know how it is,” Peter chuckled. “I brought Gamora again, along with the other Guardians. Thought it’d be nice for ‘em to meet you, and you can see what kinda crowd I fell into. They’re a little rough, but they’re good people. _My_ people. I’d be a whole different person if it wasn’t for them...and for you, of course.” He shook his head, laughing. “Reminds me of when I was a kid. All them others who said I was such a mama’s boy. I told them there was nothin’ wrong with that, and they had nothing to say back, ‘cos they knew I was right.”

“Anyway...I’ve been showing them around town, all the usual tourist-y stuff. The Lewis & Clark Museum, Fast Lane...even tried bowling, but that didn’t go so well. Guess I should rule out bumper cars and the trampoline park, hey?” Even Nebula found herself cracking the tiniest of smiles at the visualization forming in her head. Either that, or she was mentally mapping out battle tactics for how to do the most possible damage. “We get stared at a bunch. Not so much me, since, y’know, I’m _from_ here, but everyone else for bein’ different. We’ve gotten so used to being at school, where _everyone_ is so weird and so cool in the best kind of ways, that we sometimes forget. I like it better when we can forget.”

“I’ve been too...scared, I guess, about lookin’ for other graves with the Quill name on it. I dunno if I ever wanna find out if Grandpa died. If he died thinkin’ that _I’m_ dead, too. But if I ever see him in town, I’ll give him the biggest damn hug he’s ever gotten, just like when I was a kid. And I’ll tell him I killed the man who killed you. He might drag me back into church and make me repent, but I want him to know.” Peter inhaled sharply. “Do you think he ever turns on the TV anymore? Sees my dumb face plastered all over the evening news when we save the world from some crazy bad guy? Wonders if I’m ever gonna call?”

“Quill,” Yondu said gently, reaching to clap him on the shoulder. Peter barely turned to look at him before turning back, shrugging him off. Yondu’s face faltered.

“I didn’t come here to confess, though. Just wanted to drop in and say hi,” Peter continued, sounding falsely cheerful. “I only ever come back here ‘cos of you. And some selfish part of me wants to relocate your grave to somewhere else, so I don’t have to remind myself of how empty this place feels when you’re not around. But I know this is your home. It just ain’t mine.” He swallowed a harsh lump in his throat that just didn’t want to go away, then abruptly got to his feet and walked off in a random direction without so much as a glance back.

Gamora immediately stood to follow, but Yondu grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Mind if I go? I got some stuff weighin’ on me, and I need t’ make it known.” She nodded silently, sitting back down beside the others, watching worriedly as Yondu went after Peter.

“I suppose I can say a few things,” Gamora said quietly, glancing at the others for their approval. To her surprise, they all nodded encouragingly; even Nebula seemed to be accepting of her request. “Okay. Okay, um...Miss Quill, I’ve never done this before so forgive my inexperience. I lost my parents when I was young as well, and I never had the courage to seek out their resting place. People often describe me as brave, but when it comes to my family, I’ve never felt more cowardly in my life.”

“I wish I could have known you,” she continued. “Every story Peter tells, every song he plays, I feel your spirit, your soul. I’m not religious myself, and I don’t particularly believe in coincidence or fate, either, but I sense your presence when he speaks of you, like you’re still watching over him after all these years. I imagine you’re proud of the person he’s become, and I hope you approve of the company he keeps. Despite the way that some of the others grumble and groan about him, we’re a family, and we love each other all the same. Thank you for showing him love. So that he could show it to us...people who thought they’d lost any chance of it long ago.”

Yondu, meanwhile, sprinted after Peter - not an easy feat in the thick, powdery snow - and finally caught up to him, slightly out of breath. “You’re still a quick little devil, ain’t ya?”

“Watch the ‘devil’ talk, Yondu, we’re on religious grounds,” Peter said, chuckling half-heartedly. “I just need some air. I always get so down on myself whenever I think or talk about my mom. It’s never gonna change.”

“Sure, but...I actually wanted to talk to you about your grandpa.” Yondu stared down at his feet, unable to meet Peter’s curious gaze. “When the Ravagers picked you up to take you to Ego, I begged the cap’n to keep you, all ‘cos I wanted a friend. Never thought about all the family you left behind. All them aunties and uncles and cousins you didn’t talk much about.”

“Didn’t think much of ‘em,” Peter shrugged. “I was closest to Mom and Grandpa. Grandma was good people, too, but I didn’t see much of my mom’s brother, or his kids, or any of the third cousins once removed or whatever - ”

“Look, boy, I’m only sayin’ this ‘cos it’s a holiday and you seem to put a lot of investment into ‘em, but...I’m sorry I kept you from your family.” Yondu lifted his head high, tilting his chin up, clenching his jaw tightly. “I know I spent years going on and on about how the Ravagers were the best family you were ever gonna get, and I was dead wrong on two counts. The one you had before, and the one you got after.”

“Are you kidding? You _saved_ me, dude,” Peter exclaimed, his face brightening. “If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve been delivered to my dad like I was s’posed to and turned into a Celestial battery! I guess I would’ve met Mantis a lot earlier, but other than that...believe me, I’m glad things turned out the way they did.”

“So you ain’t mad?” Yondu asked. Peter laughed, throwing his arm over Yondu’s shoulder and guiding him back to the others.

“Nah. I got plenty of other stuff to be mad at you about, but this isn’t one of ‘em.”

* * *

“We’ve returned with dinner,” Drax announced loudly through Peter and Gamora’s bedroom door; the couple down the hallway by the elevator shot him dirty looks, shushing him just as loudly in return.

“You could’ve just knocked,” Peter reminded him, swinging the door open and stepping aside to let him and Yondu in. “Man, that smells good.”

The Guardians were sat in a circle formation on the floor, armed with cutlery and plates from the hotel room’s kitchenette, chatting animatedly among themselves. It was Christmas Day, not to mention their last full day in St. Charles before flying back home, and after the general exhaustion of their minds and bodies throughout the week, they were sorely looking forward to it, even - and _especially_ \- Peter.

He absentmindedly watched Drax and Yondu pass out the styrofoam containers. No one had ordered anything particularly holiday-appropriate, mostly burgers and fries, generous heaps of pasta, and in Drax’s case, an enormous steak, but after the excess of Peter trying to cram every possible Christmas tradition into last year’s winter break, the reprieve was needed. “I am _so_ hungry,” Mantis whined, stealing a fry from Nebula’s plate. Nebula immediately swatted her away without second thought.

“As if you didn’t inhale three giant waffles this morning,” Nebula said airily.

“You seem to be in a better mood today, boy,” Yondu commented, gesturing in Peter’s direction. “Bet it helps we weren’t runnin’ around like crazy.”

“I really gotta stop overthinkin’ the holidays,” Peter chuckled sheepishly. “I know we already said no gifts this year, but next year should be, like, nothing at all. Dinner, maybe.”

“I liked the snowball fight from last year,” Mantis volunteered.

“Same. I even built an ice cannon so I can pummel the rest of you losers,” Rocket snickered.

“Okay, so we can keep some of the small stuff, uh, minus the cannon. But I think all that matters is that we get to just...hang out. Spend time together that doesn’t involve school projects or chasing bad guys,” Peter said. “I mean, think about all the crazy stuff we did this year. Gamora and Nebula, you started your fight club - ”

“Combat lessons, Peter,” Gamora sighed.

“I know, but ‘fight club’ sounds a lot cooler,” Peter said, grinning. “And Rocket, you started your own side hustle with engineering tutorials.”

“And the only person who gets to see a single unit outta that is _me_ ,” Rocket said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. Groot grunted in protest. “Fine, kid, you too.”

“Can’t say I did much this year compared to some of you,” Yondu said, his smile tightening.

Gamora softened. “You worked really hard in school, Yondu, that’s not nothing. Fury said he’d never seen such a jump in GPA before, and you know he doesn’t say these things lightly.”

“He’s a spy, he lies for a livin’,” Yondu scoffed, but he looked pleased nonetheless. “We not gonna mention the time Drax saved all our asses from the Baluurian militia?”

“I am Groot,” Groot said approvingly, momentarily leaping to Drax’s shoulder so he could hug his cheek in appreciation. Drax smiled, patting him gently on the back.

“And Mantis, for her journey to self-discovery, an admirable endeavor,” Drax added. “Also, her newfound relationship with Nebula, while I do not personally understand your romantic compatibility - the same could be said of Quill and Gamora - ”

“Please stop,” Gamora said flatly. Nebula nodded in rare, unconditional agreement.

“ - it is a comfort to know that you have found happiness,” Drax finished.

“Thank you, Drax,” Mantis beamed. “I hope next year will be even better. We all feel much more...peaceful than we did last Christmas.”

“I like the sound of progress.” Gamora leaned a little further into Peter, smiling briefly when he put his arm around her, resting his hand on her hip. “We’re so close to finishing school and moving on - ”

“Movin’ on?” Rocket interrupted, furrowing his brow in suspicion.

“Or moving _forward_ , if you would prefer,” Gamora said, correcting herself. “Terra can still be our home base if that’s what everyone wants. I just mean we won’t be students anymore, we’ll be full-time Guardians.”

“Kinda feels like we’re already full-time Guardians,” Peter admitted. “I mean, this is the first real vacation we’ve had since we met.”

“And we’ll have more, I’m sure,” Gamora promised. “But we have to work for them. It’s not about wanting breaks, it’s about deserving them. We can’t afford to be greedy about what our futures look like, we have to be realistic.”

Yondu groaned, slumping against Drax. “Just for once, girl, can you lighten up a little? It’s Christmas!”

“He has a point,” Peter said quietly, squeezing Gamora’s waist. When she looked up into his face, half-expecting him to look at her either pleadingly or teasingly, she was instead surprised to see...something she couldn’t quite identify. It was the sort of face he made when they fought, but not out of anger, more out of...worry, like he thought everything was about to change, and that he was powerless to do anything about it.

Regardless, Gamora was certain Peter didn’t want her to dissect his expression, nor did she want to in front of everyone else. Instead, she put her hand over his. “Okay,” she said simply.

“Okay, um, let’s get back to celebrating, then,” Peter said, his voice hollow. “And if we’re gonna celebrate, we gotta do it right.” He grabbed some cups and the carton of eggnog he’d stored in the room’s mini-fridge, pouring and passing it out to everyone else. He held up his glass. “To the Guardians. May we kick ass and take names for as long as we live!”

“I can drink to that, but I’m gonna need somethin’ stronger,” Rocket allowed, knocking back his drink like it was a shot.

“Don’t encourage Groot. You remember what happened the last time you left a bottle of whiskey lying around?” Gamora reminded him. Rocket shuddered; that one careless mistake had resulted in both the grossest and scariest night of his life. He never wanted to see Groot tucked up in a little bed, hooked up to ominously beeping machines, in the school’s infirmary ever again. “To persistence and patience. May we survive the rest of our education, so we can pursue our best future.” Peter shivered.

“Yes, ma’am!” Yondu hooted, also drinking all of his in one go.

“And to family and love. May we have it in our lives forever,” Mantis finished shyly, turning to look at Nebula. Peter let out an audible “aww”, to which Gamora shushed him, when Nebula cracked a small smile in return.

After the others cleared out of their room and returned to their own, Peter and Gamora spent a good half hour doing the dishes together, chatting about all the things that had come up during dinner. Though he had never been one for chores - he could recall many a complaint he had for his mother whenever she told him to fold his laundry, insisting it was perfectly fine to just throw it into their respective drawers and call it a day - he enjoyed the domesticity of it when done by her side. It was like when he was a child, standing on a step stool so he could reach the counter, accepting every sudsy dish his mother handed him so he could run it under the faucet and rinse it off. That felt less like work, and more like time spent with his mom, precious minutes that he’d never have again. He wasn’t about to let moments with Gamora or the others slip away, not when history could repeat itself.

Gamora, on the other hand, watched Peter put the dishes back in the cabinet with a fond smile. Being the person she was, she knew that, at her core, she was still relatively young, still had many uncertainties laid out in front of her, years of her life she could never quite plan down to the minute, as much as she wanted to try. But - and maybe this was naive - she was certain that Peter was a certainty, that the Guardians were a certainty, and she never thought that some of her best memories would involve sitting on a floor and eating takeout with people so different from her, and yet, fundamentally the same.

She walked over to him then, a rush of affection stirring in her chest, and wrapped her arms around his middle, laying her head against his back. “Hey, you,” Peter said with a surprised laugh. “What’s up?”

“I’m still pretty awake,” she admitted. “Mind if we watch that movie you showed me last year...what was it?”

“ _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ it is,” he said, turning around to momentarily wrap her in his arms.

After changing into their comfiest sweatpants, the two of them laid out on their bed with Peter’s holo-tab projecting the movie onto the ceiling. Gamora found herself thinking back, once again, to what her Thanos-shadowed self would say if she saw her here, curled up on a king-size bed with silk sheets and goose-down pillows, the blustery Missouri snow blowing around outside like a strangely comforting soundtrack, watching a children’s cartoon with a person who loved nothing more than a good drink and a better song.

“I can hear you thinking,” Peter mumbled into her neck. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I spoke to your mother after you had to take a break from her grave.” She felt him tense up beside her. “I didn’t know what to say, exactly, but I mentioned how I was still afraid of seeking my parents’ resting place. And that, even though I’m don’t usually believe in cosmic forces, I can feel her presence sometimes. I didn’t mention that I can’t feel theirs.”

“Is it a guilt thing?” he asked quietly. “I mean, you don’t talk about them much, and I talk about Mom all the time. I don’t think it’s a bad omen or anything.”

“Maybe,” she said, reaching to take his hand, tangling their fingers together. “Or luck. That I’m lucky to have survived and escaped Thanos, to have found all of you, to live this life that I’m living now. Meanwhile, our parents’ lives were cut so terribly short. Neither of us had any part in it, so I wouldn’t call it guilt, exactly. Just a tragedy that we have the privilege and the burden of carrying with us.”

Peter turned over so their faces were closer, his free hand resting on her waist comfortingly. “We don’t have to carry it with us forever,” he murmured. “I mean, I know I sound like a big ol’ hypocrite since _I’m_ the one who won’t shut up about his mom, but I think it’s okay to just be, y’know, thankful for who they were and what we had with them. And not just at the holidays, but year-round. ‘Cos honestly, I don’t wanna come back here next year. It helps a little to talk to her, I guess, but all it does is remind me of all the things we never got to do. I wanna remember what we did.”

“Less of a spectacle next year, then?” Gamora’s voice grew stronger, returning to her usual fond, teasing tone she used for Peter exclusively, and only whenever they were alone. “I’ll enjoy the peace and quiet.”

“With _our_ friends? Never,” he smirked, leaning down to kiss her briefly. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. Though she could clearly picture all the chaos that Peter was imagining with annoying accuracy, she still knew that every insecurity and every worriment would always linger in her brain, that no single conversation would solve all her problems, but for now, at least, her mind was pleasantly quiet.

* * *

The Guardians piled themselves into their rental car outside the hotel for the last time, once again jammed uncomfortably against one another, ready to leave for the private airfield so they could be reunited with the Milano and head home. “No one left anything behind?” Gamora asked, glancing at them through the rearview mirror.

“You made us check the rooms a hundr’d times,” Yondu grumbled. “Then we had to make them beds all over again!”

“We can’t leave everything turned upside down just because they have housekeeping,” Gamora replied dismissively. “The reality is, Yondu, that they judge us for everything we say and do. You’ve seen the kind of press coverage we get when a job goes poorly. We can’t afford to let them think that about us; _we_ have to control what they think.”

“Well, I think _you_ think too much,” Yondu said childishly, shrinking in his seat a little.

Gamora rolled her eyes, knowing better than to drag the conversation out. “Peter had one last stop he wanted to make before we head to the airfield, by the way.”

“Really? What is it?” Mantis asked curiously, leaning over from the backseat to look at Peter (he’d firmly secured the passenger seat after the debacle of being shoved in the back when they’d first arrived).

Peter smiled. “My house.”

Soon enough, the car pulled up to the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. It was a neat, trim little house which was deceptively more worn than it first appeared. Like many others surrounding it, the house was older, more historic than some of the sprawling mansions seen in the more distant parts of town, with off-white siding stained with weather and wear, and a stone fence running around its perimeter that had seen better days. There was a covered porch that wrapped around one side to the back, boasting a hanging bench and a rusted glass side table. The one thing that stood out to Peter, however, was when he looked up at the second-floor window, the window to his bedroom, and saw the familiar curtains still hanging there, stood utterly still.

“It looks...the same,” he breathed. “You’re tellin’ me no one’s lived here since Mom died?”

“That seems unlikely, and yet...it really does look that way, doesn’t it?” Gamora practically pressed her face up against her window. “Like nothing’s been touched.”

“But...no, Grandpa would’ve sold it, or the banks would’ve come after it...that don’t make any sense.” Peter leaned back against his door, frustrated.

“Quill,” Drax said quietly. “Do you think there is a chance your family did _not_ sell the house?”

“Only one way to find out, I guess.” Peter pulled his phone from his pocket, and, with a deep breath, did one of the few things he truly dreaded, something he told himself to never do - he searched for his family name.

His first results were expectedly non-specific; there were dozens of people with the same name as his grandfather that ended up in the news for one reason or another, but after he added the city name, it was narrowed down to a few helpful articles. From there, it didn’t take him long to find the one he was looking for, and he began to read it out loud, his voice trembling from the very start.

_When an unexpected tragedy hit the Quill family in St. Charles, Missouri, Henry Quill, 62, struggled to hold everyone together while they coped with their terrible loss. His daughter, Meredith Quill, 31, passed away of brain cancer last month, surrounded by her family. Meredith’s son, Peter, who was 8 at the time, was overwhelmed, unable to process what had happened, and ran out of her hospital room, never to be seen again. Quill and his remaining family, including his wife and son, were left to plan both a funeral and a search party. They haven’t given up hope for Peter’s return yet, but they’re grimly aware of the possibility that he won’t come back._

_“Peter was just like my Meredith. He could be quiet sometimes, but you get a little song and dance going and suddenly, he’s the brightest light in the room,” Quill said in a telephone interview on Saturday. “There was nothing he loved more than his mother, and the fact is, I was so caught up in the sound of my daughter’s last breath that I lost sight of him - and I’ll never stop blaming myself.”_

_Since the loss of his daughter and grandson, Quill made the decision to purchase and maintain their home (Meredith was a single mother) in the hopes that it will bring Peter back. Though costly, he believes it to be the “beacon Peter needs to come home”, and is determined to keep it in the family “until the day he dies”. He has sworn to visit the property at least twice a month to mop and dust the furniture, wash the bedding, and mow the lawn, enlisting his son and extended family to help out._

“Does that mean…” Peter let out a sob of disbelief. “He’s still around?”

“Oh, Peter,” Mantis said brightly, reaching around the seat to hug him. “I think you are right!”

“Should we stay another day so you can look for him?” Gamora suggested, her mind already racing with possibilities.

“No, I...I can’t.” Peter shook his head adamantly. “I’m not...ready. It already took a lot of guts for me to come back here last year, took a lot for me to come back again. I’m gonna need to think on this before I set myself up for disappointment.”

“That’s very rational of you,” Gamora said, reaching over to cup his cheek, using her thumb to wipe at the tear that had slipped from his eyes, one that he didn’t even realize was there. It was a testament to Peter’s emotional state that Rocket didn’t make yet another exaggerated kissy noise at them, as he was oft to do. “So what do you want to do now?”

Peter placed his hand over hers, smiling at the Guardians, who (nearly) all had returning, encouraging grins of their own. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

Despite all the tinkering and whatnot the team (mostly Rocket) had been doing on the Milano over the years, it was still, modestly put, a piece of junk. It was the last evening before the spring semester started, but everything was still covered in a thick sheet of snow, leaving their ship especially creaky and stiff, meaning they had to cancel their future jobs until the weather thawed out. It also meant that their living space, which Peter and Rocket had refurbished in their first year together to make it a more habitable, Groot-accessible area, was freezing, and to top it all off, their fireplace was refusing to work.

“I almost want to go to the student lounge, just for indoor heating,” Nebula grumbled.

“And be around other people? That does not sound like you,” Mantis teased, joining her on the couch with a thick blanket and two mugs of hot cocoa. She held one out to Nebula, who immediately snatched it up like she hadn’t had anything to drink in days, lifting her arms in compliance when Mantis threw the blanket over them both. “Here, let me warm you up.”

“Fine.” Nebula maneuvered herself a little so Mantis could tuck into her side. “I doubt this will work. Your body temperature is comparatively lower.”

“So romantic,” Mantis sighed, brushing a sticky kiss onto Nebula’s cheek before popping another mini-marshmallow into her mouth.

“You didn’t choose me for saccharine compliments and embarrassing public displays of affection,” Nebula countered.

“You are very right,” Mantis said, smiling. “I will do all of that _for_ us.”

“Lucky me.” Though Nebula’s voice was monotonous as ever, there was a hint of a smile on her face.

“So...do you feel better, now that we are back home?” Mantis asked, shuffling closer.

“I would feel ‘better’ if we didn’t have classes tomorrow. But this ship, as awful as it is, doesn’t irritate me as much as the hotel.” Nebula shuddered involuntarily. “I loathe beds where I feel like I could fall right through to the floor. And people that smile too much.”

“No wonder you never sleep in the dorms. Or maybe you have other reasons?” Mantis grinned suggestively, a very odd look on her otherwise innocent face, and leaned in to kiss her, pleased by the way Nebula melted right into it. They were then interrupted by a very loud shutter click. “PETER!”

“Dammit, I still don’t know how to use this thing,” Peter groaned, setting aside the half-broken DSLR camera he and Rocket had found during a junking expedition on Knowhere a few months ago. “You girls need refills?”

“If you take one more picture of us, I will rip off your nose and dunk it in my _mug_ , Quill,” Nebula spat.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Peter chirped, taking their cups and disappearing into the kitchen.

Gamora entered the room next, carrying a book in hand and Groot on her shoulder, and sat down in the big armchair across from them. She opened her book to where she’d left off and began to read, trying not to glance over at Mantis and Nebula still snuggled up together so she wouldn’t start unashamedly grinning like a lunatic.

Even though it’d been months by now, she still wasn’t sure how they worked out so well, and yet they did, with Nebula slowly opening herself up to conversation and affection, bit by bit. Gamora supposed the same could be said of herself over a year ago, when she and Peter were still pretending that they were only pretending, when she told herself, unconvincingly, that she didn’t think they would work. She almost left the team to pursue Thanos, and now, she couldn’t imagine a world in which she wasn’t here, sitting in the ice-cold living space of their barely-functioning ship, among her family.

Groot snuggled against her torso, sighing happily as if he could he hear her thoughts. “I am Groot,” he murmured.

“I think so, too,” she replied.

The rest of the team joined them around the time of Peter’s return, prompting him to get more piping hot mugs of cocoa for everyone. Rocket attempted tinkering with the fireplace one last time to no avail, and dissolved into his usual moody grumbles until Peter gave him more marshmallows. Mantis moved to sit on the floor by Nebula’s head so she could join Drax and Yondu in playing one of Peter’s old video games, both her antennae and her face glowing with pure joy when Nebula turned over to awkwardly rest her chin on top of Mantis’s head (“Don’t mistake my intent, I can see the screen better this way,” she claimed, but no one believed her).

Peter sat on the armrest of Gamora’s chair, draping an arm around her shoulders so he could pass her the last cup. “This feels more like Christmas to me. Freezing our asses off and doin’ absolutely nothing at all.”

“I didn’t mind visiting your hometown again, but I agree, though I wish it wasn’t at the expense of the Milano’s heating system,” Gamora said dryly. “Do you really mean it, though? That you won’t be doing much for next year?”

“I think it’s time we start coming up with traditions of our own,” Peter shrugged. “There’s eight of us, we’re bound to have some awesome ideas. Don’t have to be the traditional, y’know, decorated tree, cookies and eggnog, gift-giving stuff.”

“If you’re sure. I like the sound of that, actually,” she said, patting his leg affectionately. “But Peter...promise me you won’t forget to contact your grandfather.”

“It’s on my to-do list...which is just in my brain, but still,” he relented, chuckling. “I’ve been busy prepping the ship for jobs and myself for next semester, I almost forgot. There’s still so much... _stuff_ ahead of us.”

“Back when I mentioned ‘our futures’...it terrified you, didn’t it.” It didn’t sound like much of a question.

“I think the idea of everything we have right now goin’ away or gettin’ bigger than anything we can possibly handle would scare just about anyone. But...at least we know we ain’t going at it alone.” Peter smiled. “Speaking of alone, we still got another sixteen hours before class starts again, and I wanna spend ‘em right. I also think I’d rather be freezin’ outside rather than inside, ‘cos at least there’s snow. Anyone else with me?”

Mantis, unsurprisingly, was the first one to leap to her feet, running to grab her coat and gloves; the others briefly looked at each other, shrugged, and followed suit. Even Nebula sat up on the couch so she could re-lace her boots. Everyone else practically dashed out the door, with Yondu and Rocket in particular letting out triumphant shouts as they were promptly blasted in the face with cold air. Meanwhile, Gamora went to sit beside her sister, her eyes shining. “It’s good to see you like this, Nebula.”

“Oh, don’t start,” Nebula groaned. “Can I not begrudgingly participate in asinine activities without a tearful speech about my ‘changed ways’? Or must you always treat me like a child taking her first steps just because I appear ‘happy’?”

“You say that as if you aren’t _actually_ enjoying yourself,” Gamora teased, the two of them getting up to pull on their gloves and coats. “Don’t worry, I’ll spare you the monologue this time. I think I’ve expressed enough sisterly pride to exhaust the both of us, at least, for now. Let’s go catch up with our friends.” She held out her hand expectantly. Nebula paused, staring at it like it was going to spontaneously catch on fire, then reached out to accept it, allowing her sister to lead her out into the snow.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, y'all! I know it's been a year since the last 20q fic, and I did attempt to do both a Valentine's and a summer-themed fic for this 'verse, but I honestly couldn't figure out a plot that I really liked and wanted to write about. Writing this one, however, was super fun, and gave me a few more ideas I might want to explore in the future!
> 
> The song they danced to was [All You Need Is Love](https://open.spotify.com/track/6KqiVlOLfDzJViJVAPym1p?si=PQ8EbVrmTJ68mByGoH-G7Q) by the Beatles, which made me realize I need to use more Beatles songs (my next AU is named after a Beatles song, but still). You can read this fic on [tumblr](https://bevioletskies.tumblr.com/post/181388189579/theres-no-place-like-home-for-the-holidays) if you'd like! Thanks so much for reading, comments and kudos would be much appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed :)


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